Home > Chicago Restaurants > Restaurant Review > Another Look: Schwa

“Th-th-that that don't kill me/can only make me stronger.”

We're sure Kanye West didn't have Schwa in mind when he recorded that line. But it fits.

The tiny, one-room restaurant, perhaps the finest BYOB in the world, abruptly closed in the fall. Foodies were stunned. Then two weeks ago, it reopened. I don't want to curse it with the sort of breathless attention that almost doomed it the first time around, so I almost hate to tell you this: It's better now—at least compared to my visit last year.

Dishes are more focused, yet still inventive. Presentation is better. Quality is more consistent. Chef-servers are (slightly) more approachable.

Forget “Ratatouille.” This is an Oscar-worthy redemption story. Are you listening, Hollywood?

The backstory: 33-year-old chef-owner Michael Carlson became a rising culinary star after opening his 24-seat BYOB on a dank stretch of Ashland Avenue in Wicker Park. By blurring the lines between the dining room and the kitchen, Schwa quickly garnered national press and a jam-packed reservation book. It was Alinea's punk-rock little brother.

The food was cutting-edge and so was the attitude. Reservations? On the rare occasions when someone picked up the phone, the first available table was usually months out. Valet parking? Yeah, right. There were no waiters either—the four (now five) chefs delivered food to the table with a hurried recitation of ingredients. Sommelier? That would be you. Oh, and good luck—there’s a single set menu (currently $105) that will stump even the most accomplished pairing pros. (Gee, what goes with sea urchin ice cream?) Some diners (myself included) questioned the BYOB thing—the food's just too accomplished to leave pairing to guesswork.

For  legions of food geeks, however, it was all part of the allure. Schwa represented artistic vision without artifice.

But like the best rock ’n’ rollers, Carlson seemed to be heading toward an all-too-short career. In October—the day after serving 20 of the biggest names in the culinary world, the guests of food icon Charlie Trotter—Schwa closed. Just like that. Closed. Carlson said he was simply burned out. Fried.

He left town, got his head together, then returned. He did little fix-ups here and there in the restaurant. Earlier this month, he reopened quietly, in soft-launch mode, honoring the reservations he canceled in the fall.

The basics are the same: The server-waiters. The BYOB policy. The difficulty of making a reservation. (I  left a message as soon as we heard Schwa was reopening. I'm still waiting to hear back. Some things never change.)

On Saturday, however, I went in with a Metromix freelance writer. (Full disclosure: She’d interviewed Carlson and asked if he could squeeze her and two friends in. He obliged. I never introduced myself as a Metromix reviewer.)

We ate 11 courses, including an amuse bouche of pink grapefruit segments, honey-yuzu sorbet and chamomile gelee topped with black truffles, shaved tableside. It was served on a glass cube, and we were unsure how to eat it. Carlson told us to just slurp it off. “But don't break your teeth,” he warned. From there, dishes such as pad Thai—made with jellyfish instead of noodles—and a dainty glass of Chimay beer cheese soup kept us entertained and satisfied.

Some of my pet peeves remain. The dishes, for instance, are almost uniformly shades of tan, brown or beige—a little monotonous. The chef-servers always dash off too quickly. (Sorry, but if you're serving something called “onion glue” or “liquid banana” you should be prepared to repeat yourself before rushing back to the kitchen.)

But I'm softening on the BYOB dilemma. Carlson gave us a broad outline of wines to bring: a gruner veltliner, a pinot blanc, a pinot noir. Why we brought an Australian riesling I don't know, but it was a dud. Carlson took pity on us and allowed us to trade for a livelier German version he had in back.

It's probably the only time a BYOB restaurant allowed a customer to send back a wine. How punk rock is that?

[ Chris LaMorte is the Metromix dining producer. ] clamorte@tribune.com

Add a comment